First Snow
by Laurie M
Summary: Babylon noir fic. Winter 1948: snow in New York City brings out the child in some people.


Disclaimer: All of the usual stuff - _Babylon 5_ is owned by J Michael Straczynski, Babylonian Productions™ and Warners™.

Author's Note: I asked for people to give me prompts and I would write the prompts given me by the first five people to respond. I am writing them in no particular order, just as the ideas come. So, this is for **kitoky**, who prompted 'First Snow' for some John/Della fluff - and here it is.

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**First Snow**

**By**

**Laurie M**

_New York, 1948_

When we had gone into the movie theatre it had just been the same old New York City as always: hackies locked in duels all along Broadway, their horns sounding their challenges; neon lights insinuating themselves into the evening sky; and the skyscrapers reaching upwards, like fingers trying to find a breath of air and freedom. When we came out it was still the same old New York, but that annual miracle had occurred and the city had been turned to white. We stood in the foyer along with the rest of the patrons and gazed out like a bunch of giddy five-year olds.

Okay, so that's not quite true. Most of them stared for a minute then remembered that they were supposed to be sophisticated Manhattanites and started rolling their eyes and clicking their tongues against their teeth. Anyone would have thought that this had never happened below the upper Seventies before. A large woman wearing a few acres of brown suit and with an entire mink family slung around her shoulders pulled her lips back into a grimace and emitted the sort of high-pitched shriek that sends dogs into fits. The man with her looked irritable and winced.

'Don't worry, Gerda, I'll find a taxi for us.'

Five would get you ten that he was working out a way of shoving her under the cab and blaming it on her slipping during inclement weather. He might even get away with it. I wished him luck and looked at my own wife.

Della was staring out at the street, a little half-smile working her lips and her eyes full of grey wonder. I nudged her shoulder with mine and the big sparkling eyes got turned on me. She sighed: a soft sound in the back of her throat.

'Isn't it beautiful?'

It was about the most beautiful thing I had ever seen - but what Della was looking at and I was looking at were two different things.

'Very,' I told her and she glowed at me. 'You want to see if we can get a cab?'

She glanced outside and then shook her head once, the little smile widening. I took the hint and her arm and we headed for the door, leaving everyone behind, including the little harried man still figuring his way to shaking loose of Gerda.

There weren't cabs to be had even if we'd tried for one - people threw themselves at them as soon as the bright yellow trundled into sight. It didn't get them very far: cars and cabs alike inched forward but for the most part were stationary. The winter symphony of the city began: a strident cacophony played off-key purely by the horn section.

'Are you sure you're okay walking?' I asked Della.

She tilted her head at me, looking along slanted eyes. 'Y'don't think I can make it, do ya, partner?'

I laughed; if our lives ever depend on Della's ability with phoney accents we'll have to start saying our final prayers and hoping our wills are in order; admittedly my will would be fairly short and would probably involve Mike and Susan squabbling over who gets my office chair. 'Plaything, you know that I know better than to doubt you.'

'Good. Because I even have the shoes for it - see?' She lifted one foot a little higher so I could admire her boots - little things up to her ankles with fur around the collars. For her these were practical.

'That's great. I'll get you a Scout badge.'

'Heel.'

I put my arm around her shoulders and she leant against me, slipping one of her hands into my coat pocket. Under the smell of the city and the cold I could catch her perfume coming up from her hair. I had seen through two New York winters before but now, like with so many other things that year, it seemed like it was all happening for the first time. Winter in New York before then had meant not feeling the sidewalk beneath your feet because they were numb, drifts of snow and the sort of cold that left your lungs feeling scorched when you breathed it in. But this was life A.D.: After Della. And nothing was the same any more.

We wandered through the streets, fresh snowfall dusting our shoulders and clinging to her hair and eyelashes. By the time we hit the corner of East Sixtieth and Park, the city was calm under a blanket of white. Central Park had been turned into a _tabula rasa_ and I guess that the old childhood need to mark a blank sheet was just too strong. We crossed to the park and Della took a step onto where the grass used to be and sank down into the powdery white almost to her ankles.

'Oh!' She stared down, eyes round with surprise. She looked so cute and comical that I couldn't help but laugh at her. She flashed her eyes at me.

'You think that's funny, do you?'

'Only in the nicest possible way.'

'Right. Well, let's see how funny you find this.'

She moved fast and I only just managed to miss getting a face-full of snow. She laughed then, a clear bright sound like the winter sky; it rose into a shriek when I made a grab for her and she danced out of my reach. We played cat-'n-mouse for a while: stalking each other through the snow and ambushing one another with handful's of the stuff. It continued until I caught hold of her and we both stumbled, falling into that cold soft blanket.

The sky was streaked with red and a raw mist had started to fall over the bare trees; more shrieks pierced the air as every kid within a five mile radius had grabbed their sleds and headed for the nearest slope. But we were alone in our little corner of the park and in the middle of it the respectable Della Ramir as was lay on her back, moving her arms and legs to make a snow angel.

'Your Aunt Lucy would have something to say about that,' I told her.

She laughed again, her breath spinning a white web on the air. 'Aunt Lucy should give it a try - it might to her some good.'

'In this cold? It would finish her off for good - though, I guess that would do plenty of other people plenty of good.'

'John!' Her admonishment didn't look too heartfelt.

I stared down at her as she lay there, cold seeping into my hands either side of her.

'I must look a mess.'

Her nose was red with the cold, her cheeks flushed, her hat skew and her hair powdered white. She was utterly beautiful. Her skin was icy, even her lips were cold, but her mouth was warm - sweet deep warmth. And she sighed again, back in her throat, but huskier this time, a catch in it. I felt her shiver.

'Cold?'

Her arms were loose around my neck. 'Freezing.'

I stood up and from where we were the lights of our house were visible, glowing softly above the trees. 'Okay, plaything, time to go home.' I held out a hand and pulled her to her feet. 'We'll get you all warmed up.'

She leant against me, her hands slipping under the opening of my coat and she tilted her head, looking up at me; her voice was soft. 'I'll hold you to that.'

_**Fin**_


End file.
